Murder in Marietta (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 2)

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Murder in Marietta (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 2

by Deborah Malone


  “I won’t be able to sleep a wink. My night is ruined.” Dee Dee pulled down her zipper. “I guess it won’t kill me to try.”

  I hope you’re right, Dee Dee.

  “You promise to stand guard? Just in case?”

  “Sure, you can count on me.” Famous last words. I wouldn’t have to work very hard to keep the ole’ peepers open. I knew this story could potentially be a real boost for my career. When Wade, my ex-husband, divorced me for greener pastures, I had to get a job. Twenty years had passed since I’d been in the workforce.

  With my confidence about as low as a snake’s belly, I applied everywhere, but Harv was the only one willing to give this newbie a chance. The pay wasn’t much, but it kept the wolves from the door. Even though my probation period was up, I felt I was still under the microscope. I had to accept every assignment, and make each article a little better than the last. Maybe a Pulitzer awaits me in the future. Way in the future.

  As I struggled to stay awake, I pictured the museum piece as a feature article. Next, I imagined all the national magazines and news channels calling me for personal appearances. Last thing I remember, Diane Sawyer was sitting across from me, interviewing ‘Moi.’ She wore a beige sweater complemented with a dark brown skirt. The prettiest pair of high heels adorned her feet. And to add chocolate on top of the ice cream, guess who sat beside me? None other than Harrison Ford. I’d finally made it. I wondered if Daddy would be proud of me now. Take that, Wade Middlebrooks Montgomery, III .

  As Harrison leaned over to give me a big kiss on the cheek - the most dreadful noise erupted that didn’t have any place in mine and Harrison’s dream. And who in their right mind shook me? How dare they wake me? Didn’t they value their life? Dee Dee would pay big time for this. I pried open an eye – it wasn’t Dee Dee! An ashen-faced Doc kneeled by my side.

  “Doc! What’s the matter? Did you see the ghosts?” He made a valiant effort to answer. His mouth moved, but no words came out. He gripped his chest.

  “Oh, my goodness. Dee Dee! Wake up. Doc’s having a heart attack!” She went from rustling around, to sitting straight up, in zero to sixty. She climbed over me to reach Doc.

  “You give him mouth-to-mouth, and I’ll apply chest compressions,” Dee Dee commanded as she pushed Doc down on the floor.

  Dee Dee’s been itching to save someone since she completed her CPR course. It didn’t faze her confidence a bit that it took her three times to pass.

  “Wait a minute, Dee Dee. Let’s check for a pulse first.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She poked around his neck. Doc pushed her hand away. “He’s fighting us Trix, he must be in shock. Go ahead with mouth to mouth.” Raw fear rose in his eyes as he stammered, grabbing my arm.

  “No, no,” he sputtered. “I’m not having a heart attack, and I didn’t see a ghost.”

  “Then spit it out, man. What’s wrong with you?” Dee Dee’s body, coiled, was still prepared to jump on Doc and use compressions if necessary. I laid a hand on her arm to hold her back.

  “Come on. I’ll show you. It’s awful, just awful,” he moaned as we scrambled to help him stand. It amazed me how fast his speech came back; I thought he was a goner a moment ago.

  We followed him out of the quilt room and down the hall. I held Dee Dee’s arm and pulled her along. If I had to witness what was awful, just awful she did, too.

  We stopped in the doorway of the Andrews’ Raiders display. “There,” Doc said, pointing.

  I pulled Dee Dee forward and peeked inside. Nothing jumped out at me. Then again, a dead body isn’t going to jump far. Dee Dee’s voice sounded far away as everything went black.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My eyelids fluttered open. I awoke propped upright on a stark white stretcher, a blood pressure cuff squeezed my arm, and an oxygen mask covered my mouth and nose. A paramedic held a needle, at least six inches long, poised, ready to aim. The young woman appeared way too eager to stick the offending weapon somewhere.

  “Don’t do that!” I wondered if she understood my muffled cry.

  “Hey, Joe! We’ve got a live one over here,” she called to her partner.

  “You better believe I’m alive!” I grabbed at the oxygen mask.

  “Whoa there ma’am. You’ve had a bad scare and we need to make sure you’re okay. Let’s take the pressure one more time before you stand up. We don’t want you to drop like a sack of potatoes again.” The paramedic squeezed the bulb to tighten the cuff around my arm.

  “Hey, Trix.” Dee Dee placed her hand on my shoulder. “Relax. You gave us a scare. Let the EMT do her job.” Dee Dee looked like she needed to be on the stretcher instead of me. Her face was pale as biscuit dough.

  Then I remembered. “Is he…?”

  “Yep. Dead as a doornail. Killed with a bayonet.” Dee Dee always did have a way with words.

  “Who is it? What happened?” I strained to sit up, but my head swirled and I feared I would pass out again. I was amazed at how much strength a body needed to maneuver from lying down to standing up.

  “They haven’t identified him yet, and they probably wouldn’t tell us if they had.”

  “Let me help you up.” The young female EMT removed the blood pressure cuff and the oxygen mask. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a sitting position. “Sit there until you get your bearings.”

  I surveyed the room. Doc stood in the corner talking with a couple of uniformed policemen. Two men, their heads close together in conversation, kneeled beside the body. One was Joe, the EMT, but I didn’t recognize the other one decked out in a nice suit. I wondered if he was the medical examiner.

  An unfamiliar man dressed in a rumpled trench coat, reminiscent of Columbo, walked toward me. I pegged him to be in his late fifties or early sixties. His black hair streaked with gray, matched his thick, bushy eyebrows that reminded me of two caterpillars.

  His wrinkled suit gave the impression he’d slept in it. A big fat cigar stuck out of his mouth. Please let him walk past me.

  “Ms. Montgomery?” His rough, craggy voice belied years of smoking. He stabbed an unlit cigar at me. “Are you better?”

  “Ugh, I guess I am.”

  “I’m Detective Bowerman from Marietta P.D. I need to ask you and your friend some questions. One of the officers will stay with you until you’re questioned.” He turned and walked away.

  “Can you get up now?” The young EMT shouted, as if I were deaf.

  “Yes, I think I can,” I said. She grabbed one arm and Dee Dee clutched the other. Between both of them they stood me up. They held on tightly until I steadied myself.

  “Ladies, I’m going to see if the Medical Examiner needs me.” She observed me and said, “If you feel faint again, be sure and alert us.” She hurried over to assist the M.E.

  Dee Dee hung on to me like Stonewall Jackson hung on to Manassas. I welcomed her support. “Dee, did you see the body? He was all crumpled, and there was so much blood.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I did.” She leaned and whispered in my ear, “Not again, Trix. Why us?”

  “I don’t know.” The reason we kept stumbling over dead bodies was a mystery to me.

  The officers made their way over and introduced themselves as Officer Debra Roach and Officer Rick Trapp. A nervous laugh escaped my lips. Dee Dee covered her mouth in an attempt to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve heard all the jokes. Follow me ladies,” Officer Trapp said. Dee Dee and I walked arm in arm until he announced, “Ms. Lamont, you come with me. Ms. Montgomery can go with Officer Roach.”

  “Can’t we stay together?” Dee Dee pleaded.

  “I’m afraid not. Detective Bowerman wants you to remain in separate areas until he speaks with you.” Officer Debra wasn’t someone you’d want to disagree with. Built like a linebacker, she stood a good six feet tall. Her short spiky hair only increased her macho appearance. So, I gave Dee Dee a forlorn look as we went our separate ways. She answered with a hang-dog expression.

  Off
icer Debra and I passed Doc’s office. Detective Bowerman sat on the edge of Doc’s desk. Doc squirmed in his chair like a worm on a fishhook. I anticipated my turn as much as a root canal.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After Officer Debra and I exchanged niceties, no one spoke. The silence became deafening, and I broke like a tortured woman. “What do you think is keeping them? Why wouldn’t they let Dee Dee come with me? It’s not like we’re in cahoots or anything,” I blabbed.

  She observed me with pity. “There’s no need for concern, Trixie. Detective Bowerman just likes to interview the witnesses separately. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  Easy for her to say. I sat in the hot seat waiting to be questioned by a wanna be Columbo.

  “I hope he hurries. I want to check on Dee Dee and Doc. And I need to call my editor to update him on what’s happened.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She straightened her gun belt and repositioned her pleasantly plump body in her chair.

  Time passed slower than a snail riding on a turtle’s back. When Detective Bowerman finally entered the room, he glanced at Officer Debra and said, “Officer Roach, help secure the scene.” I wanted to shout, please take me with you. I’m a quick learner and I can help. But I didn’t say a word to her, and she left me alone with Columbo.

  “Detective, would you tell me how my friend is doing?” I clasped my hands in silent prayer.

  He chewed on his unlit cigar and answered in his own sweet time. “Your friend is fine. She’s shook up of course, but you don’t have to worry; she’s in good hands. And I’ll ask the questions now.”

  Geeze Louise. “All right.”

  I must have talked on and on, gauging by his glassy-eyed stare by the time I slowed down. I explained the reason we spent the night at the museum and how we met Doc and Penny. Next, I mentioned the mysteries Doc told me had plagued the museum lately.

  I described our delicious meal at Hemingway’s Bar and Grill, at which point my stomach emitted an unlady-like growl. Of course, I revealed the Chocolate Fetish was to die for, and if he ever had a chance to eat at Hemingway’s he needed to sample it. I reckon the only reason he listened to all of the useless details was because he wanted to separate the wheat from the chaff.

  I shared how Dee Dee had procured a bee in her bonnet when I told her the assignment required me to spend the night in the museum with the resident ghosts. Amazingly, he didn’t stop me then and there. I revealed Harv had sprung this on me, and I wasn’t too thrilled about the assignment either. Taking a deep breath, I related how Doc claimed to see the ghosts and how the media ran with the story.

  I continued the saga of our harrowing night up to the moment Doc woke me, and that his sickly appearance spurred me to assume he was having a heart attack. Without skipping a beat, I ended with the big finale – when Doc showed us the body and everything went blank. I sat back in my chair and let out a sigh.

  “Are you finished, Ms. Montgomery?” Bowerman stared at me.

  I wanted to say, well duh. The truth – the fight in me had been extinguished, so I politely answered, “Yes, sir.” I felt the perspiration dripping down my forehead. I guess the detective noticed, too. He offered me some Kleenex and I gently wiped the droplets away.

  Thinking he was done, I relaxed a little. Then he said, “Now, tell me about these spirits you say you claimed to behold.”

  I ignored the barb. “I understand a sighting is hard to grasp, Detective. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen them. At first, only one soldier appeared. Then Dee Dee spotted a lady ghost. That makes two.”

  With mouth agape he stared at me like I was crazy. “Okay. Go ahead. Tell me the rest.” He wrote as I talked.

  “Well, I don’t have much else to say. One minute they were there, and the next they weren’t. I do remember, though, I experienced a strange awareness when we went to the facilities right before we lay down. The ladies’ room is close to the Andrews’ Raiders display where Doc discovered the body. Oh yes, something else I thought seemed odd.”

  “And what would that be, Ms. Montgomery?” He twirled his cigar between his thumb and forefinger. Did he use the unlit cigar as a prop?

  “The soldier was dressed in a Yankee uniform. Don’t you find that outlandish, Detective? Why would a Yankee ghost want to hang around in the South?”

  “You’ve got me.” His caterpillar brows wiggled up and down, giving the illusion of crawling. “I appreciate your patience. I’m going to interview Ms. Lamont next, and I’d like for you to stick around until we’re finished. Then I want to talk with both of you, as well as Mr. Pennington. Please try to stay out of the way while the officers work on the crime scene. I’ll speak with you again in a little while.”

  With that, he stood up and left me alone to contemplate the past twenty-four hours. I felt like I’d stepped right into an episode of The Twilight Zone.

  Dazed, I walked back to the quilt room to retrieve my cell phone and check for messages. I had one from Nana, my mother’s aunt. She’d accompanied us to Marietta and was staying with a friend for a few days. I’d also received a call from Beau, my next-door neighbor. Beau and I have dated a little over these past six months. Last but not least, Harv, the editor of “Georgia by the Way,” had left several messages. I bit the bullet, and called him first.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Harv! Stop yelling. I couldn’t call you back sooner. I’ve been kind of busy.”

  My editor is a wonderful guy at heart, and he’d do anything to help me out. He’s just a big ole’ teddy bear underneath that rough exterior of his, but he sticks to me like a cocklebur.

  When it comes to his baby, as he calls “Georgia by the Way,” he can get a little uptight and doesn’t let up until my first draft of any assignment is on his desk for inspection. Having said as much, his boisterous ways played havoc on my last nerve sometimes.

  “Have you accomplished your goals?” I heard him crunch an everpresent Tootsie Pop. The sweet treat became his vice after doctor’s orders required him to give up smoking.

  “Yes and no, Harv.” Tirade expected, I held the phone away from my ear.

  “What in the world do you mean?” That booming voice sounded like Harv stood next to me in the room.

  “Calm down so I can tell you what happened.” A ‘hmph’ shot through the phone.

  “Yes, I’ve picked up a good story. No, I’m not sure when the article will be ready. We’ve experienced a bit of excitement, and the trip might take a little longer than we expected.”

  Over the next several minutes I explained what had transpired. I detected muttering as I hung up – something about being glad he didn’t have to travel on assignment with me.

  I flipped my cell phone closed. The world as I knew it yesterday, now felt surreal. I willed myself to call Nana. I wanted to make sure she was all right. Mama usually acted as my great-aunt’s gate-keeper, but she wasn’t here, so she trusted me to take care of her. Several times, this sweet little lady had wandered off on what she prefers to call “adventures.” We’ve more aptly termed them “disasters.”

  Recently, Nana decided she wanted to enter the world of technology. So, she is the proud owner of a flip-phone designed especially for seniors. I caught her pressing several buttons before she hit the jackpot, so I set the menu to answer automatically when she flips the top open.

  “Hello,” a quivering voice answered.

  “Nana, its Trixie. I noticed you called me earlier. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, Trixie. Something terrible happened. I’m at the hospital.”

  “What’s the matter? What hospital?” I could barely form the words. Please Lord; remove this elephant from my chest. I can’t breathe. I wished I could blink my eyes and reach Nana as soon as possible.

  “I’m all right, sweetie. Dora’s taken a fall. After we went out to eat supper, we decided we’d go over to the bowling alley. They had a special - two games for the price of one. It was disco night, and they had all these brightly colored ligh
ts flashing and disco balls spinning. Those twirling things sure must have given her the dizzies!

  “We were having a wonderful time, and everything was fine until Dora fell down and started flailing her arms and legs. The doctor said the flashing lights caused a seizure.”

  “How terrible.” Immediate relief Nana wasn’t lying in the hospital was followed by shameful guilt.

  “Yes, it is! And that isn’t the worst of it. Dora hit the floor like a ton of sand, and she broke her left hip.” That’s a ton of bricks, Nana. “You know that’s been her bad hip for a long time.” No, I didn’t know about the bad hip, but the discrepancy seemed insignificant. “She’s in surgery. They’re not sure if she’ll need a replacement. I’m waiting for the doctor. By the way, did I mention how cute he is? I think he’s Italian.”

  “You didn’t tell me about the cute doctor,” I said, rolling my eyes. The mistake was too late. Nana possessed an uncanny ability to detect when I’m eye rolling, and she never lets it slide.

  “Don’t roll your peepers at me, Missy.”

  No point in arguing with her. “Sorry. I wish I could come to the hospital, but something’s happened at the museum. I won’t be able to visit right away. Will you be okay until I arrive?”

  My insides churned like an old-timey washing machine. I wanted to be with Nana as she waited for news about Dora. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t envision Detective Columbo letting me go anywhere until he finished his interviews. I did the next best thing – I offered a prayer. Please be with Nana and her friend and keep them safe. Dee Dee and I sure could use some comfort, too.

 

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